


A Guardian Angel

by spicydanhowell



Series: You Are Not Alone [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Married, Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Parents, Dan Howell and Phil Lester Get a Dog, Dementia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Phil Lester, M/M, Sad Dan Howell, Sick Phil Lester, phil lester has dementia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicydanhowell/pseuds/spicydanhowell
Summary: Part 2 of Beneath The Sapling, Among The RosesPhil's condition is worsening, and he wants another child. Dan endures feelings of depression and internal conflict.





	A Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Please read part one first! Enjoy, friends :)

August

Dan extended his hand to his husband to help him out of the passenger seat. Phil, however, did not move. He knitted his eyebrows and regarded his surroundings cautiously. “Where are we?” he asked Dan, who dropped his hand and shifted his weight from one leg to another.

“Rawtenstall, sweetheart.” Dan explained, unphased. “This is the neighborhood you grew up in.” Phil stared silently straight ahead at the empty street.

“Oh yes, we’re visiting my parents!” Phil realised, filling in the blanks.

“No, Philly, we’re moving in here to be closer to them. This is the new house.” 

“Ah, that’s it.” Dan extended his hand again, and this time took Phil’s thin bicep and gently pulled him up, steadying him as he stood. “Lovely garden.” Dan smiled. Phil was growing weaker and more frustrated with his disability, and the pair clung to gardening for a sense of normalcy, ability, and creativity. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Phil’s parents had helped move them in already, and most of the furniture was in place and ready for use. Exhausted from the long drive, Dan took the trash bag of bedclothes from the back seat of the old car and put an arm around Phil’s waist as he guided him through the front door, Scout, their big golden retriever, following close behind. The house was a bit small, but it was beautiful. Dan had specifically sought out a one story house so that Phil might move more easily through it. It had been built during the second world war, had wood panelling in the living room, and chipped eggshell white paint in the bedroom. He guided Phil into the master bedroom and sat him down gently in the large red armchair. “Do you want the windows open?” he asked, opening the blinds.

“No, we’ll get mojitos.” his husband mumbled. Dan gave a sad smile at that. Funny as it was, Phil’s ability to communicate was slipping more and more. When Phil was diagnosed it was estimated that he may live another ten years if he was lucky and maintained good health. The idea that his life partner would only live to maybe forty five was soul crushing for Dan, and even more so after the death of their son a year later. Dan lived with the knowledge that one day, one day soon, he would be without his family. He had already lost his son. Noah was so young, barely four years old, with his father’s brown eyes and curly hair. Dan had lost a piece of himself, and now he faced the loss of his husband in the years to come.

A tear fell from Dan’s eye as he spread the cotton sheets over the queen sized mattress which he quickly wiped from his cheek before going to help Phil remove his boots, and settle into bed. “Do you feel hot?” he asked, kneeling by the bedside as Phil closed his eyes. Phil shook his head and allowed Dan to cover him with a thin, white, cotton sheet. It was already afternoon, and Dan would have been happy to climb into bed next to Phil and rest, but he had to unpack the car and cook dinner. 

The depression Dan faced after Phil’s diagnosis, and the loss of their son had lessened Dan’s appetite. In the first year, Dan dropped a few pounds and gained some dark circles under his eyes. He became quieter, time passed more slowly, friends became distant. In the past year, however, Dan began to recover. He needed to remain healthy to care for Phil, so he began cooking dinners again, and built up muscle by gardening and taking Scout to walk in the woods. He relished in the simplicity of the life he and Phil had made. It wasn’t boring, but rather, it was therapeutic and freeing for them both, and it was all Dan could ever want. Except, maybe, to share it with someone for the rest of his life. 

Scout chased Dan back and forth as he lugged the boxes into the front room. Books, clothes, photo albums, plates and cooking utensils spilled over the carpet and coffee table. The album from 2012 caught Dan’s eye, and he groaned as he bent over to pick it up. The wedding photos. There hadn’t been a “wedding, wedding”, obviously, but they had had an unforgettable night celebrating with friends, seeing variety shows, comedians, strippers… They looked like babies in these photos. Phil’s long black hair nearly covered his face as he dipped Dan into a smooch, and Dan was littered with mardi gras beads and wore a wrinkled button up. It had been the greatest night of their lives.

Dan’s body was tired, and he groaned again as he picked up the bag containing a few groceries with which he would use to prepare dinner. Money was a bit tight these days what with the single income, and medical expenses, so he decided to bypass take away, and make spaghetti on the stove. The move was also a bit of an issue for Dan’s employment status, as he could no longer commute to the BBC radio 1 studio, but he had numerous offers for roles in movies and had been invited to work on a podcast with old friends not too far away. Balancing it all, and caring for Phil was a challenge, but now they had Phil’s parents to care for him. Thank goodness. As Phil’s condition worsened patches of hair by Dan’s temples went greyer, and his forehead wrinklier. He needed help caring for his husband, but he couldn’t put a man not even forty years of age through the indignity of having a stranger care for him. His care would stay in the family.

Droplets of hot water speckled Dan’s tank top and face as he dumped the spaghetti into the pot. He set a timer for ten minutes and ambled into the master bedroom, listening to the creak of the floorboards and taking in the new smells. “Philly?” he whispered as the door creaked open. His husband, propped up by a pillow, turned his head and smiled at Dan.

“Beeeear.” he croaked sleepily. Dan crept into the room and lied down beside Phil, his head at shoulder level so he could look up into his partner’s pale, frosty blue eyes. “You’ve got blowjob eyes!” Phil laughed, his body quaking with stifled laughter and tears.

“Shut up!” Dan whined playfully smacking Phil’s shoulder and kissing his cheek. “I’ve got to tend to the pasta. Come get out of bed.” Scout leapt onto the bed and licked her owners’ faces, enjoying the family snuggle. 

“Can’t leave now, Danny.” Phil joked, shutting his eyes tight as he received licks to his temples, cheeks and nose. “She needs us.” 

“Oi, he’s mine!” Dan laughed, stroking his enormous furry baby. “Come on though. I’ve got salad and spaghetti. You must be hungry.” Phil’s appetite had been a bit up and down over the past year or so what with different medications and a decreased sense of taste, but Dan was persistent.

“I suppose so.” Phil agreed, allowing Dan to pull him up out of bed, and guide him to the kitchen. “This isn’t our house.” he observed, eyebrows knitted.

“It’s our new house, Philly. We’ve just moved in.” Dan provided. It had been scary at first when Phil couldn’t remember things that had happened a few hours earlier, but now they were accustomed to it. Phil sat down at the table as Dan poured the jarred sauce over the noodles, and served the salad into bowls. Lately, Phil thought mostly of Noah. He knew his son had died, he remembered Dan telling him, but he also remembered Noah sitting on the end of the bed earlier and speaking to him. He couldn’t remember what he was saying, but it was as real as any other memory. It bothered Phil how little he could know to be true, and how much he longed for the afternoons had he spent with his son who was not his son. Which memories had he hallucinated and which were true? He sighed, and patted his lap to signal Scout to lie her head on it.

* * *

 

March

Like their son, the roses stayed at the old house. In the spring Dan would dig a large bed in the garden where he and Phil would plant daisies. He was earning a substantial amount of money taking small acting roles in movies and in short films with old friends, but everyday he worked he regretted leaving Phil’s side. Today, however was a gardening day. It was March now, and since their move six months ago Phil had slowly lost a lot of motor capability, and had begun using a wheelchair most of the time. He was, however, determined to continue gardening the best he could, and despite the fact that Phil would probably just sit in the grass with Scout, Dan helped him into a pair of old jeans, his work boots and gloves. It just felt right.

Phil sat with his thin legs crossed and removed the plants from their plastic pots. Dan slid his gloves off and wiped the sweat from his brow. “The yellow’s a good change of pace, eh?” 

“Ye.” Phil replied absentmindedly. The sun had just risen and the air was cool and fresh as Scout sniffed Phil’s hands and licked his cheek. “Bear, I want a baby.” he uttered suddenly. Dan whipped around and felt his cheeks flush with emotion. Silence lingered in the air.

“Philly… How could we care for a baby?” he sat down beside Phil and pulled him in close. “You only have a few good years left and… I…”

“I want to be a dad again before I die, Dan. My parents could help us, maybe. It’s all I want in the world.” Dan took a deep breath and tried to fight back tears. It would be a lot of work, and expensive to hire their surrogate again, but he and Phil had always wanted a family, and now they were running out of time to try again. Phil didn’t deserve to have his dreams of parenthood crushed, and Dan didn’t deserve to lose the entire family he created. 

“Okay, Philly. This afternoon we’ll talk to your parents, and we’ll call Emma and see if she is able to carry another baby for us. I want this. I want to have a family again.”

* * *

 

October

Phil found himself in bed beside Dan despite having no memory of how he got there. Dan’s body was strong, but his face was soft and freckled and his hair peppered with grey curls. He was beautiful. The sun was only just shining through the blinds, so Phil gathered that it was early morning. He nudged Dan gently. “Philly, what’s up?” Dan mumbled.

“Bathroom.” was all Phil could formulate. Dan hurried out of bed and slid Phil’s glasses over his face before carrying him into the bathroom. Whilst Phil peed, Dan grabbed the wheelchair from the bedroom and set it up for his husband. Phil was no longer able to walk much, or communicate like he used to, and needed constant assistance. The significant issue with his declining health was that their surrogate was now five months pregnant with their new baby, a boy who was biologically Phil’s. Hiring Emma again cost the couple 50,000 pounds, which they could, over time, afford, but the snag was the conflict that Dan faced. Stay home with Phil more, or take on that nth job.

He helped his husband into the wheelchair and kissed his temple. “We’ve got new ultrasound photos now. Do you want to have a look?” Phil nodded, and Dan pushed him into the kitchen to sit at the table. Their baby stretched and curled up and kicked his legs freely. “Look Philly, he’s got your head!” Dan joked gesturing at the baby’s cone shaped alien skull. Phil pieced together that this was a joke, and laughed along, but he wasn’t sure why it was funny. “What shall we call him?” Dan whispered, looking into Phil’s eyes.

“It should mean something.”

“Mean what?” Phil was silent in thought.

“Guardian.” he uttered, and Dan knew what he meant. Tears welled up behind his eyes and he took Phil’s chin in his hand.

“Philly, you don’t need to worry about me.” he assured, eyebrows knitted and pain behind his eyes. 

“I always will.” was all he said. Dan did a google search and showed Phil the results, laughing when he read the name “Magnor”.

“You like that one? Magnor Striker?” Dan laughed. Phil cracked a smile and mumbled in agreement. “What about Eddie? Like Edward.” Dan offered after a moment’s silence. “Edward Philip Lester.”

“It’s good.” Phil agreed.

* * *

 

February

11 days before Eddie was born, Phil passed away. He never met his son. A battle with pneumonia left him hospitalized, and barely conscious for much of his final days. Family members visited him but he had trouble remembering who they were, and once when he woke up to Dan holding his hand he didn’t know who he was looking at. In the week Phil was hospitalized, Dan suffered a nervous breakdown, which peaked the day of Phil’s death, February 26th 2028. He didn’t speak, or eat, or shower, and on that fateful day he drew the curtains and cried himself to sleep alone in bed.

Eddie was born on March 8th with blue eyes and wisps of light brown hair, weighing in at 3.9 kilograms. The Lester and Howell families brought the baby home the next day, and the Lesters stayed with Dan for a few days to help him cope. Dan would be all right though, because when he looked into those sparkling blue eyes he felt safe, and in his arms, Eddie was safe too. Phil didn’t have to worry about Dan; Dan had a guardian angel.


End file.
